With Fond Farewells
by BloodFromTheThorn
Summary: He wouldn't leave her to her solitude. Not now. Slight Mergana oneshot. Character death.


_I hit a bit of writers block and then this happened. I'm running on little sleep here – turns out having only a few hours of sleep is detrimental to brain function, who knew? – so it might be hopeless. I really don't know where it came from._

_This is sort of like my 'Beautiful Pain' fic. Sorry about that._

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The battle hadn't been anywhere near as long and brutal as he had been expecting. Really, after years of fighting a sorceress as powerful as Morgana, you would have thought that the final confrontation would be something dramatic with dragons and fire and spells and curses. It had been, he supposed. But not quite like he had imagined.

They were both exhausted to begin with; the war itself had been raging for months beyond the great walls of Camelot and both armies were decimated – neither magician had the reserves for the more powerful spells. But when they clashed, what little strength they had they threw into their powers, tossing light and flames around the clearing, unaware of their surroundings as they fought.

In the condition Merlin was in and the unshakable determination of Morgana, they were almost evenly matched; until the witch faltered. The warlock didn't know what had happened – all of a sudden her wards were down and his spell was shooting straight at her, too quickly for either of them to do anything but watch. The ball of blue light crashed into her stomach, doubling her up as her knees gave out beneath her while Merlin could only watch in muted horror.

He hadn't meant for this. He could practically feel her blood staining his hands and bleeding into his heart – a black toxin that would eat at him and wear at his soul. He had felt it before – Freya, Will, Balinor, Lancelot and countless others that had fallen before him while he was helpless and he knew from that moment that he would never get past this. Merlin, the boy from Ealdor had already been through far too much; he would not weather another storm. Merlin, the all powerful warlock would have to jump in to fill the breach.

Was he shouting? He thought he might be as he finally regained the use of his legs and sprinted towards the crumpled figure. Long pale fingers reached for her, rolling her over and she didn't resist.

Pale green eyes gazed at him, cloudy with pain but torn with confusion as she tried to understand; men did not hold their fallen foes. Her name fell from his lips like raindrops.

"Why?" That was all she was able to choke out before a wave of pain pulled her under and she was lost in the haze.

'_Why don't you leave me here? Why don't you end this?' _She didn't need to say it out loud – couldn't even if she tried – but he understood. He tucked his face into her hair, feeling her tremble against him even as she tried to shift closer to the comforting warmth of him.

"Because I failed you once." He pulled back to look into her eyes even as the glimmer in them dulled and her skin turned ashen. Even now she was as beautiful as the dawn. "Never again."

"You hate me," she murmured slowly with an exhale, trying to find enough magic within her to heal herself but there was nothing left; the space inside her reserved for the golden glow was drained and empty – useless. She didn't feel the loss as keenly as she thought she should.

"Yes," he said bluntly, but didn't release her from where she was cradled, almost lovingly. "But I loved you once." Morgana's pale lips quirked into the shadow of a smirk, but it faded quickly. It said a lot for the way their relationship had changed that her spite didn't even bother the warlock; there was nothing she could do that would hurt him now. They were long since passed that.

"Leave me," she ordered softly. Her eyes drifted closed without her consent and she fought to open them again; even now she refused to look weak.

"No." She frowned softly but her weariness was obvious and she didn't look menacing. "We've been here before Morgana and I let you go. I lost you." Merlin was suddenly seeing a different scene; Morgana in a dress the colour of spring leaves, cold flagstones beneath him and tiredness dragging on his body until it took great effort to remain upright. The pain and panic from that moment burst through him for a moment before he slammed the memory shut. It was another time with a different Morgana.

"Morgause... saved me," the witch forced out with a wince. Merlin shook his head sadly, feeling the all too familiar guilt taking over him.

"You didn't need saving." He hesitated briefly then buried his head in her ebony locks again to hide his face – he was such a coward. "I should have helped you."

He had thought himself beyond this; he couldn't have been more wrong. Would he never stop torturing himself for his mistakes? Gaius had told him that it was what made him such a _good _person but Merlin wasn't sure he agreed. A good man wouldn't have made the mistakes he had.

"Leave me," she commanded again but her voice was so soft that Merlin could barely hear her.

"My actions forced you to be alone, to be apart for _so _long. I will not condemn you to solitude now," he murmured back as one hand stroked her curls softly. She was too weak to protest against the touch.

"I didn't want this," the witch murmured after a moment of strange stillness, her eyes closed again, unable to look at him as she confessed. "I just wanted to be free." She was fading and her hands fell limp to the soft earth as her head lolled back onto the warlock's supporting arm.

"You will be. You can see your father again – your real father. Not Uther."

"Uther was... my real father..."

"Blood didn't make him your father." Morgana's eyes fluttered open again for a moment to look into his, searching desperately for the truth in them. It was only then that he realised that there were tears on his cheeks.

He wasn't crying for the witch he held. He was crying because long ago he had lost a friend, an ally, someone that was his kin and now he would lose the only chance he would ever have of getting her back. What he wouldn't give to see _his _Morgana again, instead of this shell of a woman.

"Your mother will be there too. Everyone that can set you free." The witch didn't respond, closing her eyes apparently content to listen to his comforts. "You won't have to be afraid anymore. Magic will be free and the gifts of it will be cherished, not feared. You'll be recognised and respected. You can finally be the person that you are, not the one people want you to be."

He kept talking, offering platitudes and promises and all the while she lay silent, breathing growing slower and slower as her face paled and her body grew heavier in his embrace. When the moment came, Merlin found that he couldn't breathe, his body out of his control; he was trembling, soundless and sorrowful as violent emotions fought to control his face.

"I'm so sorry Morgana. For all that I should have done. For everything I kept from you. For all that I did to you. Be at peace. Be free."

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_I really dislike this for many reasons, but I felt bad for not posting anything. Hope you got something from it :) This hasn't been checked, so grammar might be a bit useless. Apologies._


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